Theory
by fiesa
Summary: Izana is kind. It is the only rationale Haki can accept: he will not break her heart out of cruelty. Ten drabbles- Haki (Izana). (In ten words)


**Theory**

 _Summary: Izana is kind. It is the only rationale Haki can accept: he will not break her heart out of cruelty. Ten drabbles- Haki (Izana). (In ten words)_

 _Set: Story-unrelated, post- Ch. 53._

 _Warning: Spoilers for ch. 53 and continuing. Haki's past and almost everything in this fic is born from my imagination. But if you know Agakami no Shirayukihime you also know that we only know one thing when it comes to her and Izana: that we know nothing, really. :)_

 _Disclaimer: Standards apply._

 _Because I just checked to see how far Akagami no Shirayukihime was published yet in my country, because next month, the next volume will be released, and I stumbled over the two of them and their discussion on Izana's hair. Something struck._

 _For a pairing that has been completely canon for some time now and yet never had more than a few lines. (Can we have an extra chapter for these two, please, just like for Garaku and Shidan?_ _)_

* * *

 **i. books**

Lyrias, the people say, is the city of tents and of wisdom, and both is true.

The people also say that in Lyrias, you either become a scientist or a trader, and that part is true, as well. It is the song she learns while growing up, and from her early years on the rustling of pages, the whispering silence of the halls of the library and the buzz of noises in the scholar's halls is as familiar to her as her own name.

"There you are," Makiri sighs, and Haki lifts her head to see her brother stride into the room and drop down in a chair next to her, at the large desk that once belonged to their mother and now belongs to her. "Are you reading again?"

She only answers him with a smile, because he knows as well as she does that they both love reading. It is difficult, in a world full of scholars, not to become one as well. So she reads and she studies and she learns, and accompanies her father and her brothers to the city and to the university. She learns about plants and medicine, about economy and government and administration, about cities and humans and minds and people. Haki, only daughter and second child to a pair of scholars that governed the city of scholars, grows up thinking she would be just like them: a scholar.

When she is sixteen years old, she receives a proposal from the Crown Prince of Clarines.

* * *

 **ii. disagreement**

"I do not like him," Makiri says as soon as they are out of earshot and out of sight of the messenger. "He is too calm, it's unnatural. Like he's not a human being."

Haki's brother might be a hotshot, and too frank with his opinion; but he is responsible. Since their father died, a few years after their mother, and Maikiri became Lyrias' administrator, he has proven himself to be the capable, sensible man Haki always knew he would be. Only sometimes, his irrationality shows, especially when it is about things he cares for. Things that are precious to him: like his little sister, for example.

"He's the Crown Prince," Haki says, and tries not to smile at Makiri's predictability.

"Before that, he was only a prince," her brother shoots back.

"That doesn't necessarily make him a bad man."

"No, but it also does not make him a good man."

Haki cannot disagree with that.

* * *

 **iii. meeting**

The first time the Crown Prince visits after the proposal he sent via courier, she hides from him.

Or, rather: she does not really hide but she remains out of sight, tucked away on the gallery surrounding the great hall. From up there, her brother and their prince look much smaller. Less imposing, somehow.

Izana is seventeen years old and has just exposed a network of corrupt lords, and already the world calls him the Shadow King of Clarines. Makiri thinks that he just needs a fiancee to be spared the hustle and bustle that is the Court's courtship gossip, all the lords and ladies that wish to see their own daughter on the future king's side. Haki thinks so, too.

From her hideaway, she watches the way Izana discusses administrative business with her brother. His hair is more gold than silver, different to hers. Her mother used to say the fact that winters were so long in Lyrias would give the people silver instead of blond hair, and then she'd laugh and carefully pull the comb through Haki's hair. Of course, it does not explain why Makiri's hair is pitch-black, but her mother had only laughed at that question, as well, and said it would be silver soon enough, judging by their father's.

"Won't Lady Haki be joining us?" The Crown Prince asks and Haki smiles at her brother's barely contained grimace that is a mixture of dislike and distrust.

She had always been the friendlier one of them.

"She is not feeling well, Your Majesty."

"Please send her my regards." Others might have asked Makiri to wish her well, to take good care of herself and to recover quickly.

When they leave the hall again, Izana is the last one. He turns around at the door and looks back, and his eyes meet Haki's over the banister.

His smile is polite.

* * *

 **iv. differences**

Haki attends the Midsummer Night's ball the first time in her life two years after Izana proposed to her, because the invitation is short and impersonal but she still feels like she is expected to be there. She has yet to give him an answer.

Either way, the proposal was a matter of procedure. As long as she does not answer, he has a perfect excuse to avoid matchmaking sessions. Haki knows that as well as the Crown Prince does, no doubt.

The night is warm. People mill around in the soft evening air that smells salty and fresh, so different to Lyrias' icy winter air. Haki has met more people in the past two hours than she usually meets in two months in Lyrias, but she has not yet spoken to the Crown Prince.

"I hear your brother, the Second Prince, was used against you by your enemies, Your Majesty."

Until now, Haki has only watched him. Has carefully tracked how Izana chatted, politely and smiling, with a host of diplomats, nobles and council members. His ever-pleasant face never changes. It makes it difficult not to remember Makiri's harsh words: inhuman, artificial. At the lord mentioning his brother, however, darkness awakens in the Crown Prince's eyes that she has not seen in them before. His smile does not cease.

A cold shudder runs down her spine.

"There was a spy discovered in the foot-soldiers' barracks a few weeks ago, if this is what you are referring to, Lord Lugis?"

The silent threat in his ever-polite words is crystal clear and icy like the frozen rivers of Lyrias. With a rush of something she cannot place, Haki realizes that the man in front of her not only is powerful, but _dangerous_. That he wields the power to dethrone a lord with few words, to put a man into misery for nothing but his own whims. That he can kill as easily as he breathes. The Crown Prince is wearing an inverted mask: his smile and his polite words are a mirror for his power and authority. There is no weakness in him and no mercy. His thoughts and emotions are hidden away completely behind his ever-present smile.

But despite everything, she can see that he loves his brother.

She knows this kind of love.

* * *

 **v. answer**

Haki's quarters in the guest wing of the Royal Palace are lavishly furnished. Sometimes, she wonders whether the entire palace is filled with rooms like this one: large, beautiful, luxurious.

And _cold_.

She knows cold like no one else does, but even the ice and snow in Lyrias are warmer than the rooms she occupies.

For that reason, she prefers the library. Especially when night falls and the halls are sparsely lit, the shadows dancing on the shelves that are filled with the ghosts of memories, knowledge and history. The few people she meets on those nights barely acknowledge or even notice her as she sits in an arm chair, a scarf wrapped around her shoulders, and shifts between watching her surroundings and reading.

He must have known she is there, because he shows no sign of surprise. But then, he probably would not have even if he had been surprised by her presence. The Crown Prince continues in his search for a scroll and, when he has found it, comes to stand in front of her.

Haki slips out of her chair and curtseys.

The Crown Prince smiles as he returns her greeting.

"How do you like the Palace, Lady Haki?"

"It is very cold, Your Majesty."

His smile shifts, like she has surprised him. "It is summer in Clarines. It ought to be warmer than in Lyrias right now."

"I know, You Majesty."

His smile does not waver again as he regards her. Haki cannot help but lower her eyes. The Royal coat-of-arms is embroidered into the seam of the cloak he is wearing halfway thrown over his right shoulder.

"You have yet to give me an answer, My Lady."

Haki looks at the Crown Prince: tall, and very blond, he stands in the mixed light of the moon and the few lanterns lighting the room. He is handsome in a way she never thought of before, and very, very far away. She smiles to herself.

"I thought the answer was clear, Your Majesty."

"Was it?" He frowns at her and again Haki feels satisfaction that she managed to surprise him.

Two years since Makiri handed the proposal to her in their quarters in Lyrias. Two years since the Crown Prince had visited and she had met his eyes, had watched him, golden-haired and smiling. As much as he had seemed an intruder in their halls in Lyrias he seemed at home here in Wistalia, the constant center of discussion and activity; at home in the light of the public and his responsibilities. The shadows of the library did not suit him. Neither did the silvery light and cold of her home country.

"I am still here, Your Majesty."

"And that is supposed to be your answer?"

"It is, Your Majesty."

His grey eyes are unreadable as he regards her. Haki answers his gaze and remembers all the nights she had laid awake. Thinking, weighting. She can feel the thoughts behind his unmoving façade, but she cannot read them. Izana, Crown Prince of Clarines, nods once. Whether it is in understanding, in acceptance or in something else, Haki cannot say.

The next morning, a small box is delivered to her room: inside, there is a small gold band with a blood-red ruby set into it. She wears the ring the next time they meet.

(The question, she thinks, is not whether he would suit Lyrias. The question is whether she can suit Clarines.)

* * *

 **vi. heart**

Makiri never was the person to keep his opinion to himself.

They always knew what the other thought, kept no secrets. It always was easier that way, especially after their parents died and they were the only ones left. Haki knows, and she loves her brother more than anything.

He gives one look at her face - eyes her hand when he helps her out of the carriage - but he waits until the doors close behind them. His hug is warmth and welcome and _home_.

"Why the hell did you agree to marry him?!"

At his predictability she smiles, and the genuine worry in his voice warms her. "He is the Crown Prince, Brother. You know that very well."

"You do not care for his title, and neither do I! We do not need his intercession. If he wants to revoke our administrator's rights, then, by all means, he can do so. I do not have to be administrator of Lyrias. And our family has no real power, no large territory, no inheritance. Why should he ask for your hand in marriage?"

This is a question none of them can answer. It could have been hurtful, too, but she knows he is not questioning _her_. Haki shrugs. Makiri watches her closely and sighs.

"This is not because of some twisted logic you have convinced yourself of, is it?"

She shoots him a warning glance. "You know that is not it."

"Have you spoken to him, aside from the usual greetings?"

"I have seen him plenty of times."

"You are willing to spend your life with him after having just exchanged a few words here and there? Are you aware of what being his wife will mean? You will be the queen, Haki!"

"I will have to live with that."

"You will live under constant observation. You will have close to no private life. You will have to attend public addresses and social events. You will never again have the time to just sit there and read the entire evening. Haki, you do not even like palaces!"

"I will get used to it."

A sigh, deep as the ocean she now knows and somehow, strangely, despite the mountains and the snow and the crystal world that are her heart and soul - _misses_. "What do you see in him?"

"He is just a man, Brother."

"No, Haki. He is the Crown Prince. It is a difference." Makiri sighs again and brushes a lock of her hair back behind her ear. "Do you even love him?"

She kisses his cheek. "Thank you, brother."

* * *

 **vii. misplaced**

Haki cannot remember the first time she meets the Firstborn Prince.

Her parents were still alive at that time. Izana was not the Crown Prince yet but just the Firstborn Prince, and Queen Haruto had come to Lyrias for a state visit.

But she remembers the evening: the gold and blue of the Royal Family's coat-of-arms everywhere, the heavy scent of food and wine in the air, the sound of soft music. She remembers she wore her prettiest dress that evening, her favorite one with the silver ribbons. Outside, the snow glinted in the moonlight, a myriad of crystals spread out to cover the world.

Haki cannot remember the first time she meets the prince, but she remembers how her brother and she snuck away halfway through the evening and played hide-and-seek in the library. She remembers the crackling fire in the large hall, the small, shadowed alcoves, the heavy cedar scent of the draperies and how Makiri needed an eternity to find her when she hid on the window sill behind them. She also remembers a boy, small in the large arm chair, but still taller than her, sitting there so quietly she only notices him when she is right in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"Are you playing hide-and-seek, too?"

Suddenly, the boy smiles. "Maybe."

"What are you reading?" Haki loves books, but her reading is slow. The words in the book he shows her are long and difficult, and she does not know how to pronounce them. She scrunches up her face. "That one is boring. Better read this."

And she jumps up and races to a ladder from which she can access what she is looking for. The boy looks at her and at the book she is presenting to him.

"That one is better?"

"Much better."

He smiles, lightly. "Thank you."

Haki doesn't remember being presented to the Firstborn Prince, but she remembers meeting a boy in the library one evening.

Maybe he remembers, too.

* * *

 **viii. conversation**

The Crown Prince of Clarines, Izana Wistalia, is coronated in a blaze of light and days filled with the scent of sweetness, ocean and summer.

"You too, Haki," he says when he steps onto the balcony to greet his people, and Haki follows. His smile is the usual one, all the secrets of the world hidden away in his eyes. "It will be faster that way."

She sees the Second Prince and his aides exchange glances and smiles to herself.

A few days later he finds her in the library, as he did, before. The warm light of the lanterns caresses his pale skin. Haki stands and bows.

"I will be returning to Lyrias tomorrow, Your Majesty."

He does not ask why. He probably knows already. The Crown Prince - no, the King - knows things like that.

"When will you be back?"

"When would it please you?"

Her question makes him look up from the scroll he is holding. The flickering lights draw shadows onto his even features and she imagines him out at the ocean, surrounded by the pearly reflection of the water and the sun. He is all light, except for the shadows she sometimes can see in his eyes.

"You are not bound to act in a way that might please me, My Lady."

And that, she knows, is the truth. The King demands loyalty from those close to him, and loyalty from those who serve him. But he does not demand that their actions might please him, as long as they are _right_.

"I know," Haki says and smiles. "Indulge me."

"Our engagement is already public," he says, no smile on his lips, and watches her. She has gotten used to the sharpness of his gaze by now, the crystal splinters that cut so deeply. "It would not be good for you to stay away all too long. Return before the wedding."

"When will the wedding be, Your Majesty?"

"When would it please you, My Lady?"

"You are not bound to act in a way that might please me, Your Majesty."

At that, he smiles. Haki knows his smiles by now, but this one seems different. Fractionally... _warmer._

"It is my pleasure," he says. "Indulge me."

Haki cannot help but chuckle. "So you do understand a joke."

He is still smiling. "I never said I did not, My Lady."

"No, you did not." This time, she does not lower her gaze.

"Good night, My Lady." He kisses the air above her wrist. His hands are cool. When he turns to leave, she thinks she sees something flashing in his eyes, but she cannot be sure. He walks away, shadowed by his Sword, and leaves her to her own thoughts.

Sometimes she wonders how their labyrinthine conversations sound to strangers.

* * *

 **ix. strength**

"And so we would like to thank Your Majesty, King Izana, for his kind and gracious contribution to this place that we…"

The representative's voice drones on in a tone that would be mildly annoying to her on every other day but that today makes her head feel like it is about to burst. The sun is high up in the sky and there is not even the ghost of a wind stirring the leaves of the nearby trees. There is no shadow, either. In Lyrias, at midday, the sun glints on the frozen streets and refracts on icy windows, a beauty so different to Wistalia's ocean-scented summer. Homesickness pools in her heart and spills out over her entire body, wraps around her and threatens to choke her. Haki can feel the weakness in her limbs and the pounding in her head mixing with the suffocating heat. She should not have joined Izana today.

Izana... The King. Her husband-to-be. Soon, so soon now.

She cannot fall ill in the middle of a ceremony.

"Are you not feeling well, My Lady?"

Izana has spoken from the corner of his mouth, without as much as moving his lips.

Haki smiles, faintly embarrassed that he noticed and, at the same time, too tired to care. "Please do not mind me, Your Majesty."

He looks at her, his grey-blue-grey eyes both searching and weary. Haki squares her shoulders and looks at the front, where the representative is still droning on. A shiver of cold runs through her despite the heat and her field of vision turns black. The sound of her own blood rushing in her ears drones out the sounds of the people surrounding her.

She faintly realizes when Izana stands up to answer the representative's speech and forces her heavy limbs to obey her and follow his example. It feels like an eternity until she has managed to get up but she focuses all her strength on standing tall, knowing there are two more speeches left and that she will stand through them, whatever it might cost–

A smattering of polite applause and Izana's hand wraps around her elbow, guiding her forward and, in the process, draping her hand on his arm.

"Just a little longer," he says, so quietly only she can hear it. "We're returning to the quarters for a short lunch break. You can rest."

Haki is too delirious to realize he shortened the ceremony – for her sake. She stumbles on the stairs to her quarters, and Izana catches her easily. She cannot remember having made it to her bed but the next thing she knows is that her maid is carefully undressing her and already calling for the pharmacists.

Seeing him the next time, after three days of fevered nightmares in which she, inexplicably, dreams of him being swallowed by darkness, Haki does not know what to do. Thanking him does not seem sufficient but also out of place. She tries to, anyway, and is not surprised when he just looks at her over the parchment he is currently reading and says nothing at all.

He does not smile, either, but the fact unsettles her less than what shadows she can see in his eyes.

* * *

 **x. warmth**

"This… is different."

The first time Haki stayed in the Royal Palace of Wistalia, her rooms had been luxurious and lavish. But they had been guest rooms, first and foremost. Now, she faces the former Queen's suite in all its splendor: large, high windows, soft colors and carpets and a huge, marble fireplace.

What surprises Haki, however, is not the exclusive furniture. What surprises Haki is that the rooms are luxurious, but comfortable.

They are _warm._

"Different than what, My Lady?" Izana asks, and she wishes he would not have accompanied her. She does not want to live in these rooms, in the first place. She cannot imagine which memories he connects with the place that was his mother's private retreat when she still lived in the palace. These are the Queen's - _Ah._ Yes. Haki is the queen now, as of three hours and twenty-seven minutes. She can still feel the pressure of the tiara he placed on top of her head, the heavy weight of the coronation cloak. Haki is the queen. Izana of Wistalia is her husband. Behind him she can see his Sword, and the two guards that have been assigned to her until His Majesty has decided on a personal aide for her, as well.

The King - Izana - catches her watching him from the corner of her eyes, and Haki turns away.

"Different than the guest quarters," she says. So very different. The furniture is still expensive but it has a familiar touch, gives off a sensation of warmth. Has the King made the effort of choosing her furniture personally? Nonsense, she chides herself. He is too busy to be held up with such insignificant details.

"Do not delude yourself," Izana says, his face completely impassive, half a smile on his lips. His smile, she had learned, means nothing, really. Merely politeness, sometimes even derision. He smiled at the corrupt lords when he banned them, and at traitors before he sentenced them to death. "I had no hand in the preparation of your suite."

He is getting better at reading her thoughts. She will have to stop this. Haki wants to fall into their usual dance, to ask him who is the one deluding himself, but she cannot. There is something in his face, and it is not the usual smile. It is something that makes her heart miss a beat, painfully, and she looks away again. Suddenly, the shadows in his eyes have morphed into something completely different without her noticing it, and it... it _scares_ her.

"Of course not," she answers, with the barest hint of sharpness in her tone.

"But your brother directed me towards some friends of yours," he continues. "Who, supposedly, knew enough about your preferences in order to prepare your rooms in a way you would appreciate them. They even took the pains to provide you with your own small library."

The smile in the corner of his mouth is still there. But it is joined by the _something_ – a certain warmth in his eyes, or perhaps the ghost of it. It does not change him, not the way he speaks to her nor the way the thought of being his queen burns coldly within her. But... it changes something _between_ them. And, because she cannot deal with it right now - not after a day full of ceremonies, and a large state dinner that is yet to follow, and the thought of their First Night weighting in her guts like clumps of ice - Haki simply is unspeakably grateful that he went through the pain of calling on her friends in Lyrias to ensure she would feel at home in her new quarters.

Later, at night, in the large bed in her new quarters that feel so alien and so familiar, so empty and so crowded at the same time, Haki lies awake and looks at the tapestries that shimmer in the silver light of the moon. Wonders if he will come to her, tonight, as his duties call for. But another thought is stuck in her head, as well, going round and round and round, and she does not know what to do with it.

 _Izana is kind._

It is the only rationale Haki can accept that might console her with the thought that maybe, _maybe_ she is falling in love with him. _Maybe._ For what it is worth: he will not break her heart out of cruelty.

(At least that is her theory.)


End file.
